


Of mistakes and fuck-ups

by Band_obsessed



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2012!Phan, Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Anorexia, Cigarettes, Depression, Implications of smut, Implied Non-Con, M/M, Self-Destruction, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, it has a happy ending tho i swear, like implications of ana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:44:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5015950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band_obsessed/pseuds/Band_obsessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan knew he fucked up as soon as the words left his mouth, as soon as Phil’s eyes had turned from hurt to stone cold, as soon as he had walked out of the room, leaving his own words bouncing around in the depths of his mind.</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>The V-day video leaks and Dan doesn't know how to handle it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of mistakes and fuck-ups

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this one the day before yesterday on Tumblr and I'm v proud of it. I SWEAR IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING!

Dan knew he fucked up as soon as the words left his mouth, as soon as Phil’s eyes had turned from hurt to stone cold, as soon as he had walked out of the room, leaving his own words bouncing around in the depths of his mind.

“I don’t love you anymore. I don’t think I ever fucking did.”

He sucked in a breath, the video that Phil had made for him remaining on the screen, playing soundlessly into the office and Dan let a sob escape his mouth as he turned to look at it, at how happy Phil was as he relived all their best memories on the screen. (It hurt Dan to know that he had broken Phil’s heart more than the fact that the video had leaked.)

 

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he was alone and sobbing on the floor at three am in the morning. He also knew that the walls were paper thin, and that Phil could almost definitely hear him if he was awake and, from the light spilling out from under his door, Dan knew he probably was. He didn’t know what hurt more in that moment, the way his body wracked with sobs and his stomach tied itself in painful knots or the way Phil kept his door firmly shut. (He decided the latter felt like a knife in his heart.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up the next morning when he walked into the living room and Phil didn’t even spare him a glance. Dan’s eyes were red and puffy, cheeks blotchy and it was so painfully obvious that he’d been crying all night and the ache in his heart only increased when Phil looked at him briefly to ask about a video they’d filmed, face hard and void of all emotion. Dan promptly left the room, biting his lip and willing himself not to cry. (It didn’t work.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he first pressed the razor to his skin, watching as a few droplets of blood bubbled to the surface, seeping out of the slit on his wrist. He drew another line followed by another and told himself that he deserved it, that this was how love felt. He knew in the back of his mind that Phil’s love never felt like this, that the love he gave him was soft and gentle. (The next slit he made was deeper.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when Phil went out that night and didn’t return until the late am, some random guy on his arm and Dan retreated to his room, digging the razor out from between the pages of a book and drawing a small line every time he heard a moan coming from the next room, reminding himself that this was what he deserved, that Phil would never have loved him forever anyway. The lines began to merge together after a while and Dan wiped off the blade when the noises stopped, climbing into bed and wrapping himself up in his duvet, trying to remember what Phil’s arms felt like wrapped around his waist after three weeks. (The sad part was he couldn’t.)

***

Dan knew he had fucked up when he saw the guy Phil was with last night in their kitchen, arms around Phil’s waist as the raven haired boy made coffee. He subconsciously dug his fingers into the lines on his wrist, exhaling steadily at the pain. (It did nothing to cover up the ache in his heart.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he started to like alcohol, liked the way it burnt his throat on the way down and he took a swig of neat tequila as he heard Phil moan in the room across from his, the same guy underneath him and Dan told himself that it didn’t matter, that Phil was allowed to be happy and that he wasn’t. (It still hurt that he’d found someone after only a month.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when the guy stayed another day, sitting in Dan’s place, hand laced with Phil’s and Dan walked straight past them, instead sitting on the chair on the other side of the room, laptop resting atop of his knees. He heard Phil laugh loudly followed by an unfamiliar chuckle and Dan’s heart shattered at the irony. Phil was laughing with some guy while Dan slowly destroyed himself sip by sip, slit by slit, step by step. (He went to Tumblr and typed in ‘unwanted’ into the search bar.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he forget to wear a long sleeved tee shirt when he left his room, too numb to do much more than stumble aimlessly into the kitchen. The guy was no longer there, but Dan knew he’d be back, he’d heard Phil arrange a time to meet him and Dan squeezed his eyes shut as he started to brew his coffee. A shoulder brushed against his, alerting him to the fact that he was in fact bare armed and his scars were on full show. He snatched his arm away quickly, attempting to turn it out of Phil’s view before he saw. He knew it was futile and that Phil had already seen from the way the elder suddenly sucked in a breath, body going rigid and Dan turned on his heel, leaving his half made coffee abandoned on the kitchen counter. (He cried when he got back to his room and added another three slits to his arm.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he opened his door to go to the bathroom ten minutes later and found the now finished coffee sitting outside his door. He snatched it up quickly and drank it, placing it next to his razor on his bedside table before walking into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror and looking at his tired, dead eyes. (No wonder Phil had moved on so quickly, he was hardly anything special.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he came back from taking a thirty minute long shower and found his coffee mug was gone, replaced by a sticky note with a heart drawn on it. It made Dan’s heart clench painfully and a tear escape his eye. (He also found that his razor blade was gone later on that night and cursed Phil as he sat rocking back and forth on his floor, craving the pain it brought him, the pain that he deserved.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he bought his first packet of cigarettes, something he swore he’d never do. He made his way through a whole packet in a night, liking the way the smoke clouded his lungs like Phil once had. He like the way it dulled the ache in his heart. (He found that mixing alcohol and cigarettes was enough to make him forget for a while.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when the guy was sat in their apartment again, all but thrown over Phil and Dan looked at the TV, finding an anime that he and Phil had vowed to watch together playing. He reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette, lighting it up and slotting it between his lips, liking the way Phil stared at him with confusion and worry in his eyes. (He pretended not to notice when the guy gently turned Phil’s head and slotted their lips together.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he started to crave something more. For the first time in over a month, he got dressed into proper clothes and left the flat, only taking his keys and a wallet, leaving his phone on the kitchen counter. (He didn’t want Phil to contact him.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up the moment he let another guy fuck him in the bathroom of a club. The guy was pounding into him roughly and all Dan could think about was how Phil used to fuck him, softly and gently, scattering kisses around his neck and collar bones. He started to cry after five minutes and the guy just went harder. (He stopped trying to enjoy it half way through and allowed the guy to use him.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he passed out in a back alley, too exhausted, too frail and it was only the next morning that he realised he hadn’t eaten in over four days, alcohol and coffee being his only sustenance. He couldn’t help but like the way his ribs protruded out of his skin and the way his stomach had stopped bulging out over his jeans. (He thought maybe someone would want him now.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he came home to find Phil frantically pacing around the house, hands yanking at the strands of his hair and Dan resisted the urge to run to him and kiss away the worry. He let the door slam shut and Phil’s head snapped round to look at him, body sagging in relief.

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Phil yelled loudly and Dan winced, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Out.” He rasped, voice hoarse and all but gone from disuse, alcohol and cigarette smoke. Phil bit his lip worriedly and Dan made a bee line for his room. He reopened the slits on his wrist with his nails, self hatred clouding his lungs like cigarette smoke. (He went to sleep that night knowing that somehow he always managed to hurt Phil.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when Phil broke up with the guy he was seeing, telling him that he wasn’t in the right place in his life for a relationship and Dan heard the guy laughing bitterly.

“Yeah right, you don’t have to lie, Phil. I’m just sorry you’re in love with a guy as fucked up as your roommate.” He had spat and Dan had winced, heart breaking upon hearing that Phil was still in love with him. (That night he packed his bags and made arrangements to stay with PJ.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he left his suitcase by the door half an hour before he left before taking a quick shower. When he came back he saw his suitcase gone, a note where it used to be.

“Please stay.”

***

Dan knew he had fucked up when he decided to sit in the living room instead of his room, laptop on his lap and Phil’s eyes boring into his head. He refused to meet his gaze, instead scrolling through multiple tags on Tumblr, happy that he wasn’t the only one who felt like a no good, worthless piece of shit.

***

Dan knew he fucked up when there was a knock on his bedroom door and he stupidly opened it to reveal a sobbing Phil. Dan stood awkwardly for a moment or two, watching Phil’s shoulders shake before walking back to his bed, leaving his door open.

“For fucks sake, Dan! Fucking say something!” Phil snapped, moving further into Dan’s room and staring at the empty bottles and cigarette packets and Dan wanted to scream.

“Say what, Phil? What the fuck do you want me to say? You want me to say I’m sorry? That I regretted the words the minute they left my mouth? That I started cutting again? That I started smoking? That I started to drink to try and forget the way you kissed me? That I went out and let some random guy use me? That I didn’t enjoy a single second of it? That I started crying half way through because it wasn’t you? That I passed out in a back alley because I hadn’t eaten for five days? That I’ve been destroying myself for the past four months? That I hate myself so much I want to kill myself? That every time I see a bottle of pills I want to down them all so I’d no longer have to put up with the constant ache in my chest? What the fuck do you want me to say?” Dan yelled, slamming his laptop lid down and standing up in front of Phil.

“I- Dan- I don’t-” Phil stuttered and Dan scoffed.

“Say something, Phil.” He mocked before pushing past the elder boy and locking himself in the bathroom. (He hated himself even more.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when Phil had slammed his bedroom door shut and Dan sank down the bathroom door, sobbing into his hands because he’d missed his one chance to fix what they had, to tell Phil how much he meant to him. (He grabbed a bottle of pills from the cabinet and opened them.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when Phil’s voice yelled at him through the door.

“Dan, open the goddamn fucking door right now before I break it down!” He shouted and Dan laughed bitterly, swallowing another three pills. Phil would be better off without him. He’d be less of a burden if he died, Phil could finally be happy. He took the final pill and laid down against the cold bathroom tiles. He expected it to be peaceful, he expected to just float away quietly but soon his stomach started cramping up, impossible pain spreading through his body and his body wracked with involuntary movements. He couldn’t help but cry out loudly for Phil, tears escaping from his eyes as he heard a body slam against the wooden door of the bathroom again and again until it splintered and gave way, Phil barreling through it.

“Dan, Dan don’t you fucking dare die on me. Don’t you fucking dare.” Phil sobbed, dragging him into his lap and running a hand through Dan’s hair soothingly, his other one frantically pulling out his phone and dialling 999.

“Phil.” Dan gasped, stomach seizing again and Phil let out a sob and cradled Dan’s body to his chest, trying to take comfort in the comfort that the ambulance was on it’s way. Dan’s vision was swimming in and out of focus and the last thing he saw was Phil’s eyes gazing into his before everything went black.

***

Dan knew he fucked up when he woke up to the sound of beeping and bright white lights.

“Dan? Dan?” Phil gasped, voice laced with panic and Dan slowly turned his head to face him, offering a small smile that made him ache. A doctor came in shortly after and told Dan that he was pronounced dead for three seconds and that he was still in critical condition before going on to say that they were going to have to assess whether or not he should be enrolled in a mental facility. (Phil’s hand never let go of his.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up when Phil was arguing his case. Phil knew Dan would rather stick pins in his eyes than go to a mental ward and he here was fighting with some doctor and trying to tell them that he was fine, that he’d been like this before and been fine, and they were just going through a rough patch. It took half an hour and a lot of snapping on Phil’s part before they eventually agreed on once a week therapy sessions for Dan. (Dan smiled at Phil for what felt like the first time in years.)

***

Dan knew he fucked up. He knew he had said and done some things that tore both him and Phil apart. He knew that he was far from better, that there were days when he felt like cutting or binge drinking or smoking. He knew that recovery wasn’t easy. But he also knew that the therapist was helping, and that the medication would help too. He knew he and Phil weren’t perfect, far from, but Dan was no longer sleeping alone, and he was no longer sobbing by himself anymore. Phil was always by his side regardless of the time and the place, helping him record his videos and covering up the bags under his eyes so the viewers wouldn’t see. He didn’t push him to tell his parents everything, even though they knew about the attempt. And for the first time in a year Dan felt vaguely happy.

“I love you.” Phil whispered into the black of their room, lacing their fingers together tightly and pulling Dan in closer to his chest.

“I love you more.” Dan whispered back, his ear resting just above Phil’s heart and the gentle rhythm lulled into an easy slumber, Phil’s arms wrapped tight around his waist.

**Author's Note:**

> *I'm giving out free hugs if you need one* hope you enjoyed!! :) xx


End file.
